


Écailles de Lune

by summoninglupine



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Cats, F/F, Gen, Sandman references, Unapologetic Hellblazer references, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summoninglupine/pseuds/summoninglupine
Summary: The cunning folk are touched, her cousin had warned, you must never give them your true name, for once they have knowledge of such things, they will have power over you.
Relationships: Zatanna Zatara/Kara Zor-El
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2
Collections: Short August Medieval Exchange 2020





	Écailles de Lune

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VampirePaladin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/gifts).



The cat was of an unhappy temperament, she thought, a slender creature with a fierce look that glowered down from amongst the books that lined the shelf of the old cottage. Best to ignore it, Kara, she told herself, you know what they say about cunning folk. She decided, then, to not concern herself with the animal, staring fixedly at her feet, trying not to listen to the sound of the animal’s tail as it beat against the spines of the books in slow, deliberate movements, or to the noise of its master as she cursed softly to herself and searched amongst the charms and whatnot that she had come to be so famed for.

The cunning folk are touched, her cousin had warned, you must never give them your true name, for once they have knowledge of such things, they will have power over you. She had heard once that there had been a wizard, a powerful wizard, and once he had lost his name, so then, a child had spirited away his strength. Yet that had been far away, surely, in a different land, a story that had been told to frighten her when she was a child, newly arrived, her ship breaking into driftwood on the shore.

Before her, still in the midst of her rummaging, the woman straightened suddenly, turning to look at her over her shoulder.

“Linda, was it?” she asked.

Kara swallowed hard.

“Y-Yes, ma’am, if you please.”

The cunning woman glanced back at the drawers through which she had been searching, and, with a nod of her head that seemed to indicate she had made up her mind, turned back to the counter, a weighty, leather patch held in both hands, her eyes fixed upon Kara’s own.

She was an attractive woman, Kara thought, feeling a sudden pressure in the stare, though the manner of her dress did not help accentuate such things, clothed, as she was, in the manner of a man, her long, dark hair bound up and knotted at her back.

With shocking familiarity, she reached out and took Kara’s hands, drawing them forwards and placing the pouch in her grasp, smiling as she did.

“Well, Linda,” she offered wryly, her touch lingering, “this should help you with those bad dreams of yours.”

Kara’s gaze flicked down to the pouch, and then back up to the cunning woman.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t understand.”

The other woman—Zatanna, she reminded herself, a name strange upon the lips—smiled playfully.

“Sand,” Zatanna said, as if this explained everything.

“Sand?” Kara repeated slowly.

The cunning woman nodded.

“Sand,” she said, “from the Dream King’s realm. I happened to acquire it from a rather unscrupulous ex-lover of mine, who, in turn, claimed to have _'borrowed'_ it from a man named Hob Gadling."

Kara looked down at the pouch, feeling the weight of it in her hands.

“Is it precious?” she asked.

Dressed in her man’s clothes, a look of mischief on her face, the cunning woman shrugged.

“Hmm, more precious than a devil’s rhyme, perhaps.”

“A-And what would you have me give you in exchange, ma’am?” Kara asked with great uncertainty.

Again, she felt the warmth of the other woman’s gaze upon her.

“That you come to me when you are ready,” she said simply.

Despite herself, Kara felt a sudden blush fill her cheeks, this woman in her man’s clothes, with her secrets and mysteries, and her sour, spindly cat with its rich, autumn fur filled her with a strange kind of sadness, a strange kind of longing—like that which haunts the dreamer upon waking, she thought.

“I don’t understand,” Kara said again.

“Sleep is a precious thing,” Zatanna said, still smiling, “and when shared, even more so.”

Kara felt the blush deepen upon her cheeks, yet she nodded her head, and wet her lips.

“I think I understand, ma’am.”

“Good,” the cunning woman said, “then we have reached an arrangement, and, at that, our business is concluded.”

“Kara,” she blurted suddenly. “My name is Kara.”

Behind the counter, Zatanna Zatara smiled playfully.

“I know,” she replied.


End file.
